An old maid, a dead Indian who is also a spirit-priest, eyeballs in a teacup, and ghosts of the long-gone can be found in “The Quilter Who Went to Hell” by Rob Hunter. Hunter fulfills the “weird” expectation with these. Readers are kept groping at the edges, searching for elusive meaning in a shifting landscape of memories and present events until it’s hard to tell which is real and which is memory. It is a pleasant confusion, and I didn’t really want to be unconfused. Hunter mesmerizes by his word choice, using combinations that hide as well as reveal. It’s an aesthetic that is essential to stories like these, where understanding isn’t all that important.
— Rochita Loenen-Ruiz in the Fix November, 2008
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